


Ticket

by shlynn



Series: SterekFlashFic on Tumblr [2]
Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Camaro - Freeform, Ficlet, M/M, Sexual Tension, Stiles is always an idiot, Tumblr, cop, cop!Stiles, deputy stilinski, prompt, sterekflashfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-05 00:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shlynn/pseuds/shlynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale’s mouth is sealed into a tight line by the time Stiles - that’s Deputy Stilinski to you, mister - makes his way up to the driver’s side window. It’s already rolled down, probably was before they even pulled him over, and Stiles gets a good side view of that chiseled jaw, clenched tight as Derek glares determinedly out the front of his windshield.</p>
<p>"Afternoon, Mr. Hale," Stiles starts gleefully, leaning over to rest on his elbows on the door of the Camaro, "Do you have any idea how fast you were driving just now?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ticket

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous prompt: the one where stiles is a cop and gives derek a ticket

Derek Hale’s mouth is sealed into a tight line by the time Stiles - _that’s Deputy Stilinski to you, mister_ \- makes his way up to the driver’s side window. It’s already rolled down, probably was before they even pulled him over, and Stiles gets a good side view of that chiseled jaw, clenched tight as Derek glares determinedly out the front of his windshield.

"Afternoon, Mr. Hale," Stiles starts gleefully, leaning over to rest on his elbows on the door of the Camaro, "Do you have any idea how fast you were driving just now?"

There’s a deep inhale, and Derek closes his eyes momentarily before sighing long and low. Stiles does his best not to smirk.

"90. _Sir_.” the title comes out so venomously Stiles almost loses it.

"Hm," he says instead, pretending to inspect his nails. "And do you know the speed limit for this here stretch of road?"

The leather of Derek’s steering wheel creaks under his grip.

"80."

Stiles waits for it.

“ _Sir_.”

"Hmmm," Stiles says, long and drawn out, "Now I’m wondering if you know why I pulled you over."

Derek turns in his seat, and his glare is positively murderous. Stiles rights himself on instinct, forces down a squeak that could either be intimidation or laughter, he’s not quite sure. The amusement dancing in his gut quickly boils to burning, and that’s something else entirely because those _eyes_.

"Stiles." Derek barks. "This isn’t funny."

"Ah, ah, ah!" Stiles grins as he regains his head, "That’s Deputy Stilinski to you, mister."

He can’t help it now, he guffaws a little as Derek lets out a low growl.

"Seriously, Stiles? You’ve pulled me over six times this past week just to say that same line to me. It’s not funny. What do you want?"

"Hey now, grumpypants, it’s our very own running joke," Stiles pouts. "And cut the attitude! You’re speaking to an officer of the _law_ , dude.”

"Yeah well I’m pretty sure pulling me over all the time for no reason is against the _law, dude_ ,” Derek spits.

Stiles swallows. Maybe he’s actually crossed a line here. Derek doesn’t look like his stormy attitude is clearing up at all.

"You were speeding," he says weakly.

"Then write me a damn ticket!" Derek all but yells, smacking his hands against the wheel. "Quit pulling me over if you’re just gonna let me off with a stupid warning anyway!"

Okay, so maybe Stiles has been a bit conspicuous. Oops. He feels his cheeks flushing as he snaps his teeth shut and stares at his boots. Yeah, six times in one week was maybe a bit much, but it’s not like he ever had any other opportunities to talk to Derek…

He feels the back of his neck heat up in embarrassment as he pulls out his ticket book.

"Uh," he starts awkwardly, "Yeah, you’re right, I - look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, uh. I just - yeah, you’re right, sorry."

Derek pulls in another long breath and lets it out noisily through his nose.

"Look, uh, this was my fault." Stiles says, drumming his pen against the ticket pad. "I - I know this is dumb, but why don’t I let you off with, uh… With another warning? Last one, though, I swear. Seriously dude, I’m. I’m really sorry."

Jaw clenched again, Derek turns to stare at him incredulously. Stiles feels like he’s about to be punched, and he’s actually bracing for it - which is why he flinches so hard when Derek’s arm shoots out the window and grabs both his pen and ticket book from him.

"Hey!" Stiles starts, mostly out of shock, as Derek starts scribbling furiously on Stiles’ pad. At first he thinks Derek’s maybe writing _himself_ a ticket, the psycho, until he finishes up and thrusts the pen and paper back into Stiles’ dumbfound hands.

It’s a phone number.

_Derek’s_ phone number.

"Uh -"

"Now just call me like a normal person instead of pulling me over all the time, idiot." Derek grumbles, and Stiles rips his eyes away from the desecrated ticket as Derek turns to angrily glare out of his windshield again.

The tips of his ears are pink.

Nowhere near as pink as Stiles’ whole face, though, which is probably bordering on purple with the amount of blood rushing to it.

He should say something, this is - this is when he’s supposed to say something, he needs to - _think_ , Stiles, come on, say anything -

"Thanks," is all he manages to say, voice cracking, and he coughs hysterically into his arm.

When he looks back, Derek is grinning, and _this_ \- Stiles should have been bracing himself for _this_. This is devastating.

"Am I free to go, _Deputy Stilinski_?” he all but fucking _purrs_ and Stiles -

Stiles shivers, trying to hide it in his fervent nod (failing, if Derek’s eyebrows are anything to judge by).

The Camaro’s engine revs and then Derek’s off and away, and Stiles stands there like an idiot for a minute before staring back down at Derek’s number.

Derek’s _number_.

He keeps himself from whooping with glee (barely), unsure as to whether or not Derek can still see him in his rear-view mirror. He certainly hopes not, as he waddles back to his squad car - the crotch in his uniform just got uncomfortably tight.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me and send me your prompts on tumblr, pretty please!
> 
> sterekflashfic.tumblr.com


End file.
